“Sil, yer actin’ like I give a fuck,” Logan railed from the privacy “ nearly “ of his bedroom as he listened to his ex interrupting him for about the fifth time since she called. Three angry voice mails were waiting for him when he finally cleaned up the food cartons and put away the stack of DVDs. He noticed the red light flashing on the phone stand as he came back from guiding a drowsy Laura to her room and kissed her goodnight.
“Maybe you should for a change. You have your days. I have mine. You don’t seem to see it that way.”
“Time got away from us. I just wanted ta do something special for Half-Pint,” he grumbled. “Sorry I didn’t call.”
“You should be,” she snapped.
“Said I was sorry…hello, are ya deaf?”
“So where were you two? Your voice mail was full on your mobile, I couldn’t leave you a message.” Logan cringed guiltily, remembering the dozen or so messages he’d deleted when he woke up.
“We bowled. Then Laura had a friend over. Fergot ta turn the ringer back on.”
“Sure you did.” Any vestige of interest in hearing how they actually spent their time evaporated as she gave the past night she’d spent fuming and worrying its head.
“Ya can ask Laura after she gets out of the shower.”
“I will. I sure the hell will, you sonofabitch!”
“Take yer pill, Sil!”
“Fuck you.” Logan was interrupted by a low knock on his door, and Laura nudged her way inside, her hair still damp and dripping onto her black Supergirl tee with a pink, glittery logo.
“Is that Mom?”
“Sure is, punkin’, here,” he offered, passing her the phone when she rushed over. Her face lit up as she placed it against her ear.
“Mommy, guess what!” Logan suppressed a smile as she used the long-forgotten title and bubbled with details from the previous night. “I went bowling with Rachel last night! Lucas came with us, too,” she announced with less enthusiasm, “and he was the one who broke my Barbie, but his mom said that he had to get me a new one, and she bought it, and it was a Fab Faces doll! It’s SO COOL! I can’t wait til you see it!” Logan couldn’t wait, either. His wife was no more fond of Barbie and her pricey accessories, either, but that didn’t stop her and Vic from unloading a hefty amount of change on ‘em every birthday and Christmas.
“We went bowling, and then we were gonna just come home and watch Star Wars. Luke and his mommy came over here, and we had Chinese food,” she gushed. Logan watched her nodding in response to something her mother asked at her end, and he went back to the task of folding their socks, doing his best to match the ones in the laundry basket. It was always dryer number three, he mused, that loved to eat his damned socks as soon as he bought a new pack. Logan knew he’d have to answer to Silver about the Chinese takeout; he’d promised her a real dinner. Fuck it…
“Luke’s mommy’s okay,” Laura provided, and that gave Logan pause, making his ears prick up mid-fold. “She’s pretty. And she’s really, REALLY tall. Not as big as Victor.”
“No one’s as big as that cuss,” Logan muttered under his breath.
“What did you say, Dad?”
“Nuthin’, kiddo. Just clearin’ my throat.”
“Mommy, is it okay if I stay with Dad until dinner? PLEEEEEEEASSSE? We’re gonna do some stuff.” She made a pouty face, which Logan was sure she was projecting into the phone. He dared her mother to say no. “Some fun stuff. We might go to Chuck E Cheese.” Logan shot her a disgusted look; it was supposed to be a surprise.
“THANKS, Mommy! Oh, I love you, you’re the best mom! YAY!” She grasped the phone in both hands and made smoochy noises into it before handing it back to her father.
“Ya get all that?”
“Uh-huh. I want her home no later than seven. I’ll meet you at the school so we can both go to orientation. I’m taking her to the meet-and-greet.”
“I was gonna take her to that, anyway, Sil.”
“You don’t have to.”
“My goin’ ain’t up to you,” he reminded her. “Seven friggin’ o’clock.”
“Fine.” She beat him to the punch again, hanging up first.
“Nice,” he snarled, punching the off button and flinging the handset onto the rumpled bed. “C’mere, kiddo, and grab some of this laundry. I want it folded and actually PUT AWAY before we go anywhere!”
“Awwwwww,” she groaned, scuffing back to the bed with slumped shoulders.
“We don’t hafta go anywhere,” he reminded her quietly. That was all she needed. Her slender arms snaked out and scooped up as much as her clean laundry from the pile Logan had sorted as she could carry, and she hustled back to her room with it, dropping underpants and socks in her wake.
He felt almost giddy. He kicked himself as he retired to the bathroom to shave, wondering when it began to take him longer than his daughter to get himself ready for a day at grungy old Chuck E Cheese. He squeezed some gel into his palm and ran it under the tap, mashing the damp mixture into his hair before he combed it into some semblance of order. He scowled at a few gray strands that winked up at him in the light, now that it was wet. Great…just what he needed.
Laura was waiting impatiently for him, combing her new doll’s hair for about the fifth time since she got it at the kitchen table.
“Didja eat, Half-Pint?”
“Uh-huh,” she nodded, pointing to her dish next to the sink, bearing the remains of her scrambled eggs and some toast crumbs.
“Whaddya do with it?” he cajoled.
“O-kaaaaay,” she carped, flinging her doll onto the table and dragging her feet oh-so-dramatically and retrieving her plate. She dutifully scraped it into the trash, rinsed it, and tucked it carefully into the dishwasher. Much nicer than last night’s dish performance, he grimaced. Half the plates and bowls she’d handled were chipped, and she cracked his favorite beer glass from Hooters.
“And we’re off!” Logan locked up behind them, pausing briefly to peek at the doorframe Ororo had been admiring with Laura and Luke’s growth marks etched in the cracked paint. Who woulda thought? Miss Uptown High Society used ta hang her hat in his neck of the woods. You could’ve knocked him over with a feather.
That thought kept him up all night. Had she turned her bed to face the same direction he did, to get that first glimpse of the morning sun? One of the reasons why Logan had chosen the unit he had was that it was one of the only ones upstairs that didn’t smell like cats, which he despised. Ororo didn’t strike him as a cat person, either, and he was grateful that she never contributed to the unit smelling like a great, big litter box. God bless her.
The traffic to Chuck E Cheese was no less brutal than it had been yesterday. Logan drove around the parking lot for ten minutes before he finally found a space in the back, nodding his thanks to the old station wagon’s harried mother at the wheel, looking like she’d been granted a pardon from Death Row. Logan thought he saw a plastic airplane fly across the cabin of the car before she exited the lot.
“Gads, Laura, whaddya like so much about this place?”
“It’s okay,” she murmured, trying to pacify him. “My friends come here sometimes.” It was her favorite, despite Rachel’s claim that it was for babies.
“So, would ya be heartbroken if we left early?”
“DAAA-AAAD!”
“Right. Moving on.” They were stamped in and entered when the teenager lowered the velvet rope by the door. Logan felt the faint roaring in his ears starting up already as he watched one dad feeding dollar after dollar into the token machine. A two-year-old was screaming at the top of his lungs in the play tunnels, refusing to go down the slide and giving the three kids in back of him hell. Another little girl who reminded him of Laura at four was bopping the crap out of the Whack-a-Munch machine, missing it every time. A paltry three tickets slithered out of the slot to reward her efforts.
“I wanna play Jurassic Park,” Laura informed him.
“Here ya go, kid,” he offered, digging into his pockets and fishing out a crumpled five, which he tucked into her cupped hands. “Enjoy yerself.”
“Thank you, Daddy!” He chuckled, once again deciding that she used his favorite pet name to bribe him. It worked. Stinker…
Logan perused the ice cream machine’s pitiful selections, choosing between the lesser of two evils, and he was about to buy a bombe pop before his cell phone jangled in his pocket. “Hey,” he breathed into it, dodging being run over by a pack of twelve-year-olds who should have known better, shouting and waving wads of tickets in their hands.
“Hello, stranger,” Ororo murmured. He did a double take at the display, noticing her number. He cleared his throat.
“Hey. What’re ya up to?”
“Listening to Lucas try to convince me that he needs to go out again. His father had other plans.” She wanted to tell him “He punked out and bounced again, like a chump.” All Logan heard was We’re free today.
“So, maybe ya wanna change yer plans, too.”
“Where are you that it’s so noisy?”
“Chuck E Cheese. Thought we mentioned that last night.”
“Right, right. You did. Sorry. Brain fart. We got to bed late. I got up early to get my son ready, and T’Challa had already left me a voice mail last night telling me he had an embassy teleconference at noon. So, no go.”
“Then go. Come out with us. We just got here. We’re gonna be here fer a while.”
“That sounds fine,” she decided. “Didn’t you have to work today?”
“They ended up not needin’ me after all.” Then Logan had a brainstorm for another surprise. “Why dontcha clear yer docket fer the whole day, darlin’? No sense in eatin’ the lousy pizza in this place. We could do lunch. Or something,” he finished, holding his breath. She sighed, and her voice held a faint smile in it as she replied.
“Let me get dressed. See you there.”
“Kay. Bye, ‘Roro.” He grinned. Laura caught his eye and waved to him from the arcade, and he gave her a more fatherly smile, but the more wolfish grin of triumph crept back over his face as he turned back and hit the skeeball machines. He racked up a long string of tickets after blowing his chump change on eight rounds. Laura squealed enviously as he handed her the thick, accordion-folded wad.
“Let’s cash them in,” she urged.
“Uh-uh. Why don’t ya wait til Luke and Mrs. Munroe get here?”
“They’re coming?” She arched her brow at him, imitating his Sunday-best “you’re shitting me” look. He shrugged.
“We invited her before. She called. Seems like we woulda seen her at some point,” he reasoned. Well, it sounded reasonable to him.
He wondered what she’d be wearing this time.
Logan and Laura spent the next ten minutes shooting baskets and playing skeeball. A familiar, rich voice chuckled lightly at a mere 100-point shot that was the next best thing to a gutterball.
“You won’t win the big prizes, throwing like that.” He turned around slowly, since she sounded like she was directly behind him, and he smelled a hint of her spicy perfume.
“We already won a ton of tickets,” Laura boasted to Lucas, who had left his Nintendo handheld at home this time.
“I can play skeeball,” he shot back. “Even my mom can play!”
“It’s like bowling,” Laura retorted, figuring that pretty much ended the discussion.
“Oh, it’s much better than bowling!” Ororo’s grin was infectious and full of mischief. Her lips were painted a luscious plum, looking sweet enough to taste. Her outfit didn’t disappoint. A long black skirt made from suede cloth clung to her curves, and she topped it with another chiffon blouse with fluttering, slashed sleeves, still snugly fitted with a jade green corset, this time made from Oriental silk printed with gold dragons. Her hair was caught back in a high ponytail, and slender gold bangles laddered up her wrist. A pair of ridiculously skinny stilettos that Logan wagered cost half his paycheck shod her feet.
“Didja come from church, or something?” What he really wanted to ask was, Do ya always dress like ya stepped out of the Macy’s front window, and do they know one of their mannequins is standin’ there stark naked?
“Not this morning. Luke has Sunday school next weekend,” she explained, rubbing her son’s head fondly and readjusting his baseball cap. He’d tilted it sideways in an attempt to look “gangsta.” Ororo tilted it back. Lucas snorted, then moved it back. “Boy, you know that looks ghetto, you better fix that!” she nagged, throwing in a little head trip for good measure.
“Why do I hafta wear it that way?”
“Because I said so. What else do ya wanna know?” Her hands propped themselves authoritatively on those hips…Logan mentally wiped away drool. Mmmmmmm. He was torn from his reverie, involving visions of her snuggled on his lap, letting him feel the soft-looking fabric of that skirt when she got back to business. “Are you using that one, Logan?”
“Huh?” Those hips. That mouth. That blouse…
“The skeeball machine. Can I cut in?”
“Oh. Yeah. Heh. Here ya go, darlin’.” He swung away from it, sweeping his hand in an “after you” gesture that he hoped looked gallant. She just giggled.
“Don’t hog it.” She fed it a token and the eight dusty, game-worn balls shuttled down the chute. “C’mon, come to mama, big money, BIG MONEY!” She kissed the ball for luck and let it fly.
Five hundred points. Logan rocked back on his heels.
Ororo mopped the floor with his best scores “ which still didn’t help the condition of the floors, since Logan could feel his feet beginning to stick in something he didn’t want to describe “ and won reels of tickets. Lucas wasn’t doing too poorly, either, which Logan marked up to him being slightly shorter and not having to bend as far to aim it down the lane.
“Wanna go again?” She wore a Cheshire cat smile.
“Uh-uh. Wanna go ta lunch?” he countered. His stomach growled, but she never heard it over the din of kids running around like demon spawn, tearing the place up like they were paying rent.
“No pizza,” she pleaded, screwing up her face.
“Sure as heck not here,” he agreed. “You name the place.”
“Sandy’s Fish and Chips,” she suggested. Logan half-expected something more upscale.
“I want a burger,” Lucas whined. Laura chimed in, raising her hand as though they were already in class.
“Ooh! Ooh! Me too! I want one!”
“They have burgers there,” Ororo assured them. “We can all get what we want.”
Logan hoped she was right.
They made their way toward the door, and Logan felt his nape tighten as Scott Summers ushered Rachel and Nate in through the velvet rope after getting his own hand stamped. Like Ororo, he was slightly overdressed for this place, attired in linen pants and a pinstriped oxford shirt. His loafers sported a high shine, and he was just tucking his Oakleys into his pocket when he spotted them. His face lit up when he headed for Ororo.
“Jeannie called me on her cell. She said you weren’t home. She wanted to know if she could go ahead and book a nail appointment for the two of you on Thursday.”
“Ooh. Love to. But I can’t. I have meetings all day. We’re filling shoe orders for five different stores, and we’re pushing our winter line for shipment this October.”
“Way to rush the season, ‘Ro.”
“Ya gotta get the hook in ‘em,” she shrugged, pantomiming reeling in a big fish. Scott chortled.
“Leave it to you.” He finally acknowledged Logan, and he wore a hard look in his dark eyes.
“Where is Jeannie anyhow, Summers?”
“She’s busy. She wanted an afternoon with her sister Gayle and her friend Lorna.” Scott’s posture was still stiff, his tone indicating that it was none of Logan’s business where his wife was.
“Tell Lorna hi, if you see her.” Ororo’s smile was meant to pacify. It helped.
“Tell her yourself. Rachel’s birthday’s coming up,” Scott reminded her. “Jeannie’s sending out the invitations in the mail. She’s coming. Warren and betsy are coming.” Logan fidgeted at the sound of another name he’d deleted from his voice mail. To her credit, Betsy had only called once.
“Where are you having it?”
“Not here!” Scott blurted. Ororo smothered a snicker. Her blue eyes danced with something akin to amusement and relief. “It’s a barbecue. We’re having a bounce house.”
“I hope you called Charles,” Ororo mentioned.
“I did. He’ll be there with bells on.”
“They’d better match his suit,” she warned. “His current tailor called in his measurements yesterday. I’ve already started something for him that I think Lilli will like on him.”
“She misses you. Give her a call.”
“When I get back. We’re heading out to lunch.” Ororo noticed that Laura and Luke were already mingling with the Summers children and staking out their territory by the video games again. “Provided we can pry them away from the arcade. We’re going to Sandy’s.”
“I didn’t know you liked fish and chips.” He gave her a measured look.
“It never came up in casual conversation.” Logan was growing tired of being left out of the conversation, particularly since Summers was on his way in, Logan was on his way out, and he wanted Ororo to himself, kids notwithstanding.
“LAURA!” He cupped his mouth with his hands, projecting over the clamor in the playplace. “Let’s go eat!” Naturally, that brought her running with Rachel in two.
“Can’t I stay, Dad? Rachel just got here!”
“Yer gonna use up all yer quarters, and we’ve still gotta eat. You’ll see Rachel tomorrow at school.”
“Awww! That’s not the same! That’s SCHOOL,” she pronounced, folding her arms across her chest and treating him to a scowl he’d nicknamed her Donald Duck face.
“There’s still a certain birthday party coming up where you can have lots of time to hang out and have fun together outside of school,” Scott consoled her. “We can’t wait to see you.” Logan almost liked him. Then the thought occurred to him: He was gonna hafta bring Laura to Jean and Scott’s house. “Rachel, ask your mom to send an invitation to school with you tomorrow.” Rachel bounced up and down, clinging to Laura’s arm to make her bounce, too, making it difficult for her to maintain her glare.
“Mom, can’t I stay and hang out with Nate?”
“We’ve been here a while, Luke. Let’s eat. I’m starved. You know you’re hungry, too. I don’t want to hear you acting evil when we go to do something else, and you still haven’t eaten.”
“Man,” he grumped, but the thought of a burger and fries still tempted him. “Okay,” he consented on a grumble. Logan patted his shoulder fondly.
“Man after my own heart,” Logan decided. “Meet ya there, ‘Roro.” He escorted his daughter out once Rachel let go of her, milking the promise from her that she call her later that evening.
“See you there.” She reached out and gently rubbed Scott’s arm, grinning at him with sympathy. At least they were escaping the godawful sounds and smells of this pit. Logan peered back and wanted to snatch her hand away from him, coveting her touch for himself. It didn’t help that she felt so soft, or smelled so inviting.
He herded Laura back to the Escort above the growing tide of complaints. “Rachel just got there! We didn’t even get to cash in our tickets! I wanted to stay, Dad!”
“Save ‘em. Next time ya come, we’ll cash ‘em in for something really good,” he promised. “Maybe you and Luke can pool them together for a decent prize.”
“It’s not the same,” she muttered, but she stopped arguing long enough for him to start the car once she was buckled in. His eyes followed Ororo’s graceful stroll to her car, enjoying her progress in the elegant skirt as her sleeves fluttered in the breeze. Her hair rippled behind her and caught the afternoon sun, setting it ablaze. Damn…
He pulled out of the space, and she caught the sound of his engine. She grinned at him and waved before she and Lucas climbed into the back. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her if she ever drove anywhere.
Sandy’s Fish and Chips was already crowded by the time they got there; thankfully, the wait for a table was not very long. Ororo and Lucas stopped at a nearby newsstand on the corner and purchased a couple of Archie comics, which they shared with Laura while they waited in the lobby.
“Booth or table, ma’am?” inquired their hostess from the cashier’s desk.
“Booth, if you have one,” Ororo replied. “For four.” Logan enjoyed the sound of her voice. She caught him staring, and gave him an amused look.
“What?”
“Ya sound like someone’s who’s used ta givin’ orders.”
“What? I sound bossy?”
“A little.”
“I’m not that bossy,” she complained, and then she stalked back over to Lucas, who was lazing against the vinyl bench with his comic. “Luke, quit kicking that chair! And please, fix your hat!” She reached over and righted it, once again tilting the bill so it faced forward. He rolled his eyes. “Those eyes’ll be rolling back in your head if I catch you giving me that look again, young man!” She returned to her place beside the “Please Wait to be Seated” sign, and Logan was smirking, letting his eyes crinkle. She liked that crinkle, but she’d never let him know that.
“I’m not that bossy,” he mimicked slyly.
“Hmmph.” Her lips twisted like she’d tasted a sour lemon before she looked away. She kept peering back at him, each time meeting his glance, which only grew more amused each time. “Am not bossy.”
“Are too.”
“Hush, you.”
“See?”
“Am not.”
“Hah!”
“Your table’s ready,” their hostess announced, grinning as though she’d caught the tail end of their skirmish. Ororo beckoned to the kids, and they skipped after their parents, already bragging about how much they planned to eat.
Their waitress materialized before they were even fully seated. “Would you like this on one check?”
“Yes, please,” Ororo informed her before Logan could protest, or even chime in that it was fine. His mind was already puzzling how to end lunch on the right note. No way was she springing for the whole tab. No way.
She just smiled at him as they perused their menus. “I haven’t had fried shrimp in I don’t know how long.”
“Ya like shrimp?”
“Can’t get enough of it.”
“Shrimp. Yuck,” Laura grimaced.
“It’s good,” Luke argued, growing defensive on his mother’s behalf. “I’m still getting a burger.”
“That’s fine, Luke.”
“I want a shake, Dad.” It didn’t escape Logan that she’d dropped “Daddy” as soon as her friends showed up, and it definitely wouldn’t be making an appearance here.
“That’s fine, kiddo. Don’t overdo it, though. Yer mom’s not gonna be too happy if all I did was let ya eat junk today.”
“I had a good breakfast today,” she whined.
“Whaddever. Take it easy on the sweets,” he admonished.
Twenty minutes later, they sat munching on piping hot fries and breaded onion rings from two family-sized baskets in the center of the table. Ororo dipped her shrimp into the spicy cocktail sauce on her plate and popped it into her mouth.
“Mmmmm. I needed that,” she purred. “It’s been a dog’s age since we came here last.”
“Dad brought us on your birthday,” Luke mumbled around his straw as he made short work of his chocolate shake. Laura was paying more attention to her fries, mopping up the puddle of ketchup on her plate using two at a time.
“That was about two birthdays ago,” Ororo pointed out. “He hated this place.”
“Not much of a fish and chip man, I take it?”
“He didn’t even like fried food. McDonald’s or anything like it was his idea of hell.”
“I can’t say that word,” Luke reminded her.
“And you still can’t. Sorry,” she amended.
“Mom won’t let me go there, either,” Laura considered.
“I like it for a quick lunch once in a great while. I get so busy.”
“Ya design clothes?”
“Design, merchandise, and I do a lot of my own marketing. I thought I found my calling a couple of years ago. We didn’t have much back when. I was just separated at the time.”
“Huh.” Logan dipped a piece of his beer-battered cod into the tartar sauce and took a hearty bite. He chewed thoughtfully before answering, “Ya seem like yer doin’ pretty well now.”
“It wasn’t easy. You try making it in the fashion industry in this town, when there’s a few thousand other talented young things trying to design it first and steal your glory.”
“Think I’ll stick ta cars. Don’t know my way around a sewing machine. Don’t really wanna, either. Give me a body ta overhaul or a transmission ta fix, and I’m a happy man. I can do body work.” Her hand paused mid-dip, shrimp hovering over the sauce as she caught the glint of mischief in his eyes. He happily squirted lemon juice on his remaining strips of fried cod before chucking the spent wedge onto his plate. He drew the edge of his thumb into his mouth and sucked the sheen of juice from his skin, drawing her attention to the wicked notch in his upper lip as he pursed his mouth.
He had one heck of a mouth. Bad puns and all.
“Body work isn’t something I have to worry about.” A faint flush rose up in her cheeks, and she toyed with her shrimp.
“Uh-uh. Ya sure don’t.” He was starting to enjoy himself.
“Mooooooommm, Laura’s hogging all the ketchup!” That brought him back to earth, quick.
“Am not!”
“You’ve been hogging it all day!”
“Luke, you’ve got plenty of ketchup.”
“So do you, Half-Pint.”
“Don’t CALL me that!”
“Oooooh, I’m telling Nate! HALF-PINT!”
“SHUT UP, Lucas!”
“Awright, that’s enough! Folks are tryin’ ta eat!”
“Er, excuse me? Check, please!” Ororo flagged down the waitress. “And bring some to-go boxes?”
“He started it,” Laura insisted mulishly.
“Nobody started anything, kiddo. Next time just hand him the ketchup.”
“Lucas, you don’t even eat that much ketchup…”
“I can’t if she’s HOGGING it!”
Gads… “That’s not a nice thing to say.”
“I wanted to hang out with Nate, anyway,” he grumbled, as if to say “So there. Neener-neener boo-boo.”
“You’re not hanging out with Nate. I’d expect you to be polite with him, too, even if you were.” The waitress returned with the check and laid it on the table along with a short stack of white to-go cartons.
Ororo and Logan’s hands pounced, slapping the bill at the same time. Neither of them looked ready to relinquish it.
“Wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t cover it. My treat,” he explained matter-of-factly.
“You treated us already. Dinner, as I recall. It’s my turn,” she reasoned.
“I can get it.”
“No. You can’t.” It was the tip of her tongue to say “Leggo!”
“Flip a coin,” Luke griped.
“Yeah!” Laura chimed in. She fished in her pocket for a Chuck E Cheese leftover token.
“We need something that has both a head and a tail, kiddo,” Logan corrected her. He reached into his own jacket pocket for a quarter. “This’ll do. Call it, Luke.” Lucas beamed at being chosen for the task.
“Heads!” he called triumphantly.
“Tails!” Laura insisted, not to be outdone.
“Duh,” he muttered back.
“Be nice, Lucas!” Ororo nagged, rolling her eyes. Logan deftly flicked the shining coin up into the air. He caught it and smacked it down onto the back of his hand.
Heads.
“What are the odds?” he sighed.
“About seven to one,” she grinned, snatching up the bill. She reached out and pinched Luke’s cheek fondly when he grinned back. Logan snorted as she got up to take care of the tab, and he began shoveling the leftovers into the cartons to occupy himself. That same niggling feeling of inadequacy from the bowling alley, when Ororo gave Laura that expensive doll came roaring back.
He shoved the feelings aside, stuffing them down deep. This was also the same woman who lived in his own humble digs, not long ago. Shoot, she even liked a good beer. Laura and Luke finished their shakes, skraking the bottoms of the glasses with their straws until Ororo came back and told them it wasn’t polite.
“What time is it?” Ororo inquired, squinting at the afternoon sun and how much lower in the sky it seemed from when they left her townhouse.
“Quarter to three.”
“Wow. That late!”
“Ya gotta be back home for something?”
“Luke’s dad was going to call him. He’s got my cellular, but he usually uses my land line to get a hold of me.”
“Maybe ya wanna come with me and Laura on one more little trip?”
“What did you have in mind?” Laura looked as though she, too, were champing at the bit.
“It’s a surprise. We can take my car,” he offered. She considered it for a minute, balancing her to-go boxes in the crook of her arm.
“I don’t want to take up your whole day. It’s your last free day with Laura til school starts.”
“That won’t change if you two come with us.” Her smile spread slowly across her face, and she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
“Okay.” She called her driver using her mobile, letting him know they had a ride to their next destination, and she would let him know when they were ready to go home. Logan unlocked his car, wisely setting their leftovers in the trunk so they wouldn’t have to smell fried fish on the ride over. He let Ororo in first before making sure both kids were comfortable in the back of his Escort.
They drove to a part of town Ororo wasn’t familiar with, finally arriving at an enormous gravel lot of what looked like a fairgrounds. She saw streamers and balloons tacked to the gates and flying in the air as they let themselves out of the car. An enormous banner read “10th Annual Car Show and Racing Expo!” in huge red letters.
“WOW! What’s going on here today?”
“All kinds of good stuff. It’s a gearhead’s paradise, babe. Get ready to see some stuff you’ve never laid eyes on before, and that ya never will again.” Luke and Laura ran ahead, already intrigued by the loud music and announcements blaring from the loud speakers. Ororo eyed the crowd thoughtfully, taking in the sight of men and women garbed more casually than Logan, and definitely not as gussied up as she was. They waded through an ocean of logo tee shirts and torn jeans and black leather jackets on their way to the ticket booth. Ororo reached for her purse, but Logan stilled her hand. His fingers felt warm against her wrist, sending a pleasant little tingle through her belly.
“Don’t worry about it.” He reached into his pocket and handed the woman in the booth a handful of passes. “Maverick Auto Body and Racing Sports,” he announced briskly. “Three guests.” He waved Luke and Laura over to have their hands stamped again, this time with the black racing car logo that Laura claimed looked like a tattoo.
“I haven’t been to one of these.”
“Then ya haven’t lived.” His fingers carefully reached for her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. “C’mon, darlin’.” She reflexively gave him a squeeze, and her smile was almost shy.
It reminded her of a comic convention, except the only superheroes were spray-painted across the hoods of specialty cars. Hondas, Cadillacs, Rolls-Royces and vintage Chevys were lined up and fenced off from the public with velvet ropes, and hot rods gunned around a nearby track, their roar almost deafening. The bass beat of the music piping through the speakers assailed Ororo’s ears, and she was grateful when Logan stopped a strolling vendor to get some small, foam earplugs.
Lucas and Laura were in their element, pointing at all of the cars, each one more sublime than the next. Ororo was inspired by the sleek paint jobs and shining chrome accessories and rims, and enjoyed watching the hydraulics competition as much as her son did.
“Look, Mom, it HOPS!” he cried, pointing to the souped-up Brougham sporting candy paint and a huge graphic of a soaring falcon across the hood. “Awesome!”
“I like THAT one,” Laura sniffed, elbowing her father and directing his gaze to a vanity car that someone tricked out with a My Little Pony mural on a deep pink background with a license plate that read “PRE SHUS.”
“Yer such a girl,” Logan muttered, ruffling her haid.
“She has good taste,” Ororo agreed. “I want that for my next car.” It was still on the tip of Logan’s tongue to ask her what she drove, indeed. He shook it off; she’d think he was being nosy. He was fine where he was, anyway, with her huddling closer to him as the wind picked up, bringing with it a hint of autumn chill.
“Brrr. It wasn’t this cold this morning. Normally I don’t get that cold.”
“Ya just finished a cold soda. That’d do it.”
“You’re not helping me feel any warmer, telling me that,” she chided him, but her tone was good-natured. They were elbow to elbow, and she was still leaning against him. Luke and Laura were still choosing which car they wanted to buy of the ones they saw and indulging in their usual one-upmanship.
“Then let me help ya.” He unbuttoned his fleece-lined jacket and beckoned to her, standing behind her and wrapping her into his embrace, engulfing her as well as he could within its warmth. His chest felt solid and hot beneath the soft flannel shirt he wore, and his masculine scent and the tang of his aftershave surrounded her, appealing to her senses. “Warmer now?” he rumbled, his breath tickling her earlobe and sending more delightful shivers up her spine.
“Yes,” she sighed, and she knew the rapturous grin looked ridiculous on her face. “Thanks.”
“Welcome.” His cheek rubbed the crest of her shoulder, almost intimately. Her curves were supple and fitted easily against him, just like they had the night before. He hadn’t done the old “yawn and reach” around the back of the couch, since she seemed content to lean into him, anyway. Part of him marked it up to the fact that they had a long day. Or that he had a small couch. The other part of him simply cheered.
Lucas was the first one to notice that they were still standing there after the car-hopping contest was over. “Mooooommmmm, let’s GO!” he nagged.
“Dad, I’m cold, too,” Laura pouted, clinging to him like one of those koala doll clips that they used to make for kids’ pencils. Ororo chuckled.
“Can’t have that. Come over here.” Ororo snaked an arm loose from the comfy interior of Logan’s jacket and looped it around Laura, huddling her close. “There. Luke, you too!” Logan’s silent laughter rumbled through her as the kids bucked for what room they could against Ororo.
“My jacket ain’t THAT big,” Logan complained, but he was still grinning.
~0~
The sun was just setting as they staggered out to the parking lot, exhausted. Ororo’s feet were killing her, but she was content. The kids dozed off in the back of the car as soon as Logan hit the highway on-ramp.
“I always wanted to go to one of those.”
“I kinda figured ya might get a kick out of it.”
“It’s nice to have one more thing I can do with Lucas. I taught him how to play chess. We’ve both got a gaming addiction, too; he got that honest from me.”
“He’s got yer laugh. I can hear it in him every now an’ again.”
“Laura’s your clone.” He puffed up with pride from the driver’s seat.
“She’s a heartbreaker, but I’m biased. Gonna stand by the front door with a baseball bat when she thinks she’s old enough ta date.”
“I’ll be right there in the same place, swinging my broom stick when the girls start calling Lucas. Scares me to think how soon that’ll start happening.”
“No shit,” he muttered. “Time flies too friggin’ fast.”
“I’ve tried putting rocks in his pockets to keep him from growing any bigger. It doesn’t work,” she admitted.
“He’s gonna be a monster! Look at the size of his feet! I can’t keep Laura in cleats, either.”
“Is she into sports?”
“Soccer. Practice starts this week. It’s gonna be go, go, go with practices, games, and potlucks for the next two months. Wears me out just thinkin’ about it.”
“Do you take her to everything yourself?”
“I’m the chauffeur most of the time. I share custody with Silver, my ex-wife.”
“Neat name.”
“Short for Silver Fox. She’s Native American and Mexican. Real proud of her people.”
“Good. Luke’s pretty proud of his. His father hails from Africa.”
“What’d he think of you starting your own business?”
“I didn’t until after we were separated. I wanted to have something that was my own. I didn’t want anything from him during the settlement except for Lucas.” Logan glanced at her with surprise. He’d paid Silver alimony until she got married three years ago.
“So that’s how ya ended up in digs like mine?”
“It was home. Home’s wherever you hang your hat.” He chuckled at her use of his favorite phrase.
“Yer gonna hafta tell me where ya live, darlin’.”
“Okay. Turn there.” He guided his way carefully into merging traffic and made a left at the stoplight a quarter of a mile ahead. They drove through the business district; new construction took up every other corner, and each block was crowded with high-rise buildings and “Space for Lease” signs. “I’m three lights up from here, and then a right.”
The view kept improving from where he sat as they drove past elegant brownstone townhouses flanked by dogwood trees bare of their blooms for the coming autumn.
“It’s building 616,” she mentioned, pointing to the one with red shutters on the windows. His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. It was ten steps up from where she’d come from, living in his building. How did one person come that far in so short a time?
“Would you like to come in for coffee?”
“Maybe next time, ‘Roro.” He longed to, even if the prospect of seeing her opulent home intimidated him. He had to get Laura home to her mother. He promised Silver, and he was already up shit creek if he didn’t.
“Okay.” Her voice was slightly disappointed. “Luke, we’re here,” she prodded, leaning around the seat to nudge him. Her arm bumped Logan’s shoulder as she reached for her son, that slight contact bringing with it more of her light fragrance. Luke smacked his lips and squinted up at her indignantly.
“We’re home already?”
“We have to let Mr. Howlett and Laura get home. You’ve got an early day tomorrow.” Ororo wasn’t looking forward to the task of laying out uniforms, finishing laundry, packing lunches or calling T’Challa back with Lucas’ schedule for the week, or explaining why they weren’t home when he said he’d call. It had to be done.
“Okay,” he grumbled.
“Tell him thank you for inviting us out today.”
“Thank you,” he replied dutifully, climbing out of the car and sagging against his mother, who’d already let herself out and gently shut the door of the Escort.
“See you tomorrow at first bell?”
“Yeah. G’night, ‘Ro,” he bade her, borrowing Summers’ nickname and liking the way it felt on his lips.
“Goodnight.” She trotted up the steps in those killer heels, Lucas in tow, and Logan lingered long enough to enjoy the sight of her climbing the stairs in that skirt.
[Reviews - 115]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Has been viewed 1546 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | - Text Size +
You must login () to review.
